It was fitting that after sixteen months of isolation, carry-out meals, and social distancing that our first venture away from 330 Rugby was to San Francisco’s De Young Museum to see two separate exhibitions—Frida Kahlo, followed by more than 100 paintings, drawings, and photographs of Alexander Calder and Pablo Picasso, an exhibition that was conceived and presented by grandsons of both artists.
First, Kahlo. I knew little about her before the exhibition, only that she was the wife of famous Mexican painter Diego Rivera, that she had become known and respected as an artist in her own right. I didn’t know that she had contracted polio as a child, or that at age 17 she had nearly died in a bus accident in Mexico City, that she had miscarried once, and that these themes returned to her time and again in her paintings, many of which were of herself, perhaps the first artist whose work centered on selfies.
One of the most dramatic paintings was commissioned by Clair Booth Luce, who after seeing the painting, found it so troubling that she wanted to destroy it. The subject is a dead socialite, a friend to both women, a troubled soul whose husband had lost so much money that she jumped out of an apartment building on the 16th floor. Kahlo painted her body with the flowing formal dress she had worn the night before.
Kahlo’s miscarriage showed up in the death mask on a small child.
Her damaged spine from the bus accident was reflected in the broken column and the punitive corset that supported a broken body.
The two Kahlos. Frida saw herself as an embodiment of both a male and a female. Her strong touching eyebrows and the faint mustache gave her a masculine appearance, and she explored the two Fridas in countless paintings.
Among the 100 pieces by Calder and Picasso was the following:
Nowhere is Picasso’s deconstruction more obvious than in the eleven sketches he made of a bull. In the final image the essence of the bull is revealed in one unbroken line.
Calder constructed, starting with space, adding lines, creating something from nothing. He was enamored of the jazz singer Josephine Baker. His wire sculpture is attached in such a way that a passing breeze sets her into fluid motion.
Again in the theme of deconstruction, Picasso’s painting of a girl in a red chair distills the essence of the title, and we are left with this:
In this final image Calder’s unmistakable mobile, a sculpture or “stabile” that both floats, spins, and stands is next to Picasso’s famous bull, a bicycle seat under handlebars. Two of my favorite artists. What a treat to see them together in this remarkable exhibition.